


Sticks and Stones

by jolly_ranchers_girl



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: First time posting on here, Minor Character Death, Will add more tags as I go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolly_ranchers_girl/pseuds/jolly_ranchers_girl
Summary: A vine covered statue standing in the middle of what he guessed was the town center resembled a female troll. She stood tall watching him, eyes soft and warm, her hair falling down her shoulders unlike his hair. She held a rose up to her chest, holding it close. In her other hand was a journal.





	1. Chapter 1

Branch pressed against the trunk of a tall tree, deep in the shadows, and listened. This was his first time being in this part of the woods and he didn’t know if any predators were nearby. He wished Poppy didn’t urge him to go search for some Patton Roots. If only the Patton tree didn’t die.

The blue troll had sighed at the thought of the queen ordering him to go. At least he didn’t have any unwanted trolls volunteer to come with him. Now he found himself in the silence of the forest, underneath the mighty leaves of the huge tree.

After what seemed like hours of nothing, the survivalist stepped back into the light path he was following. Sunlight swam through the leaves, casting eerie shadows across the ground as the troll continued on his way. He was determined to find some of the herb before the sun went down. He had to. The village was counting on him to. The herb was used in almost every medicine known to trollkind.

Branch stopped to study a bush of red berries. He picked one and squeezed it between his fingers, letting purple juice drip down his hand to the ground. “Red Soronta.” he mused, popping the berry into his mouth before taking off his backpack and setting it on the ground. He dug inside the pack for a small pouch. “These could come in handy.” he mumbled, picking a few off the bush and dropping them into the bag.

After collecting as many as he saw fit, he pulled his pack and started along the path once again. He kept his eyes peeled for any dangers. His eyes passed by a bush of strawberries, paying no attention to it. Strawberries weren’t that strange. It’s just weird that they would be in a place where they barely get sunshine.

Wait. Branch spun around to face the bush. He took a few cautious steps to it and bent down to study it. The strawberries and leaves looked like it was frozen in time, still even as the wind blew. It was fake. Why would someone make a fake bush? Without much strain, the survivalist pushed the bush out of the way to reveal a gate covered in vines.

He pushed the gate open, his mind racing. Why would someone hide the gate? Where does it lead? Was this all a trap? Pushing the thoughts away, he cautiously stepped over the threshold into an almost claustrophobic hallway of tall hedges. He pushed forward, until the hallway widened into a clearing.

Standing before him was the ruins of a civilization. A vine covered statue standing in the middle of what he guessed was the town center resembled a female troll. She stood tall watching him, eyes soft and warm, her hair falling down her shoulders unlike his hair. She held a rose up to her chest, holding it close. In her other hand was a journal. It took Branch a moment to realize the book wasn’t marble like the rest of her.

The survivalist slowly made his way to her, peering around him at the crumbling houses -they didn’t seem to use pods- for anything to jump out. Seeing nothing, the troll gently took the journal from her hands and looked down at its faded cover. He opened it to a bookmarked page and scowled.

“‘This book was once meant for our History, but now I plea to you reading this,’” Branch read, a gust of wind rushing by sending a chill down his spine. “‘Please, help them. Save them from the curse they’re under.’” he flipped through the rest of the pages, all blank.

“Curse? What curse? And who’s them?” he said, just as he glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head quickly to freeze. The statue was now pointing to a big house across the way. He studied her face. Her lips were set into a soft smile and her eyes seemed sad. He trailed his eyes up to the rose now tucked into her hair.

Branch found himself walking to the building, trying not to let the rising fear keep him glued to one spot. He had to help, even if he didn’t know who they are. When he reached the building, he noticed there wasn’t a door, just a curtain. He pulled the curtain back and felt fear overtake him again.

There were the bodies of children. Each lay on a separate bed, covered in rose vines. A strong, sweet smell clung to them like perfume. He unconsciously took a step forward, and tried to hold back a gasp. The girl in front of him, no older than a teenager, was breathing. Her chest rose slowly, moving the vines an inch each time.

Moving even closer, Branch noticed a flicker of light every breathe. He pulled a knife from his belt and cleared the vines, revealing a gold plate with a name carved into it. “Charlie? Well, nice to meet you Charlie.” he said, looking up at the sleeping girl. “Now, what is wrong with you?”

He pulled off his backpack and searched it for his book on different illnesses. He needed to be prepared for anything, after all. He pulled it out and flipped through it for some kind of sleeping curse. He stopped, finding something close to it.

“‘Sleeping Death’? Sounds like it. Now what is the cure? ‘A concoction of Patton Root, Red Soronta, and… Sleeping Rose petals’? Where am I supposed to get that?” he said, agitation ticking away inside of him. A quiet whistle caught his attention. Who is that? He poked his head out to see the statue was closer now, her hands cupped holding something out to him.

He walked over to her and looked down at her hands. In them he found a blue root, speckled with red petals. “You know, we should stop meeting like this. People might talk.” he said, taking the offering. He looked up at her warm smile and swore she winked.

Branch rushed back to the building and began crushing the ingredients in a bowl. He followed the books instructions to a T; first, cutting the vines off the kids so they could easily sit up, then putting the mixture on the forehead of every kid (he counted twenty). With his work done, he stepped back and waited.

Everything was silent for a few minutes, making him wonder if he didn’t do it right or-

Charlie sat up, suddenly, taking in a deep gulp of air. She turned a pair of frightened blue eyes to the survivalist. “Who are you?” she asked, voice shaky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie approached the queen and did a slight curtsey though it was hard with how tattered her dress was. Now that Branch noticed, the kids all needed new clothes. He could take care of that later. “Um, Poppy,” the teen said, unsure of the right things to say to a queen. “What will happen to us? Where will we go?”

Branch held up his hands in a simple surrender as the girl watched him cautiously. “I’m Branch. I’m here to help.” he said, watching her closely for any reaction. “You had a case of the Sleeping Death. I don’t know how long but-”

“Mommy?” a little girl asked, rubbing her eyes and holding her teddy bear tight. “Where are you?” she looked around, then laid her eyes on the only adult around. “Where’s my mommy?”

That question was not once he was prepared for. She was so young, younger than he was when he lost his grandma. He wished she didn’t have to deal with this. “Um…”

A chorus of ‘Where’s my mommy?’ and other questions erupted around him. His heart caught in his throat. What could he tell these kids? That their parents were most likely dead? He couldn’t.

But he didn’t have to.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” Charlie asked, bringing the room to a tense quiet.

Branch sighed. “Yes.” he took a step closer to her, causing her to scoot back. “I know this is a hard thing to go through, but you can’t stay here.”

Charlie climbs off the bed, her legs wobbling from lack of use. “And you want us to go with you? We don’t even know you!”

The survivalist sighed. “I know.” he stepped closer to the girl, now noticing her bubblegum pink hair, falling down her shoulders. Pink hair just like Poppy’s. “You can come back to my village. Queen Poppy will happily welcome you.”

The teen rose an eyebrow. “And why should we come with you?”

“Because you won’t survive here, and I’m sure you can’t take care of these kids on your own.”

Charlie turned to look at the kids, now surrounding her. She turned back to him, eyes softer. “We’ll go with you… if Marigold approves.”

“Marigold?”

She simply nodded and led him out into the town center towards the statue. To his surprise, the troll was back in her original position. As they got to her, she turned her head to look at them. Branch jumped back a bit, but settled down since he already ‘seen’ her move once before.

“Marigold,” Charlie said looking up (was she always this tall?) at the statue. “Should we go with him to his village?”

“Yes, my dear.” Marigold, replied her voice coming out smooth as honey.

Charlie smiled at her then turned to the children. “I guess we’re going to have a new home.” she turned to the survivalist and sighed. “Do you mind if I help the children pack their things?”

“No, go ahead.” Branch smiled and watched her lead the children away into the town. He turned to look up at the still statue. “Thank you.” he whispered, before bending down to study a little sapling that was already blooming seeds. He beamed. “I guess I found a Patton tree afterall."  
\--------  
If someone told Branch he would be leading nineteen kids, and a moody teenager, through the woods he would’ve just rolled his eyes. There was no way he would do that. But here he was doing exactly that. It wasn’t a piece of cake watching out for predators and making sure the kids don’t get lost. That’s the last thing he needed.

He felt something pull on the leg of his shorts and looked down. A little girl with orange hair and green skin looked up at him with her big green eyes. Her eyelids started to droop and he chuckled. “Come here.” he scooped the girl into his arms. “Tired?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. The girl snuggled into his chest and drifted off.

Charlie smiled fondly at the sleeping child. “Twizzle is such a sweetie.”

“Twizzle?” he raised an eyebrow. “That’s a weird name.”

“Says the guy named Branch.” she shot back with a smirk.

“Touché.”  
\--------  
The moment Branch stepped into the village he was tackled by a pink blur. He chuckled as the queen nuzzled him. “Love you too, Poppy.”

The energetic troll pulled away and smiled down at him. “Awe, Branch. That’s so sweet!” she climbed off him and helped him to his feet. “How was the trip? Did you find any Patton Roots?”

Branch pulled out a bag and tossed it to her. “Got as many roots as I can, and got some seeds to plant our own trees. Also, another thing…” he turned around and gestured someone to come over.

Poppy watched in shock as a little crowd of weird looking trolls walked over. They were all children. She fought back the urge to awe when a tiny little girl hugged Branch’s leg, clearly happy to be near him. “Branch…” she gushed.

“Don’t start Poppy.” Branch shut her down real fast, and picked up Twizzle. “We need to talk.”

His tone of voice brought Poppy to her senses. “Yes, of course. Follow me.” she said, before leading the group to the royal pod where she did most of her queenly duties.  
\--------  
“And that’s why I have twenty kids with me.” Branch said, as a purple haired boy tried to climb him. He chuckled at the kid’s actions. He had just retold his adventure to the queen, even the part about the statue -Poppy rolled her eyes at that, until Charlie confirmed it. She did live their most of her life after all.

Charlie approached the queen and did a slight curtsey though it was hard with how tattered her dress was. Now that Branch noticed, the kids all needed new clothes. He could take care of that later. “Um, Poppy,” the teen said, unsure of the right things to say to a queen. “What will happen to us? Where will we go?”

Poppy smiled sadly at the girl. “Well, we could put you up for adoption-”

“You can’t just separate us!” the teen shot back, uncertainty gone. “Can’t you think of something else? Please?”

Poppy tapped her chin, before she gasped and made a face Branch knew too well. She had an idea. And it couldn’t be good. The pink troll turned to him, bouncing in place. “I know someone who has a big home.”

Branch scowled. “No, Poppy. I can’t take in a bunch of kids!” he said, glancing down at the boy now hugging his leg. “Besides, I need to prepare my bunker for them. I need to buy twenty beds, get the kids new clothes, learn all of their names, carve their names onto their beds…” he rambled on, counting on his fingers.

Poppy chuckled at her friend’s actions. “Then you better get started!”


End file.
